Nightmare On Helm Street
by Waddles52
Summary: A night of Halloween fun doesn't go as planned.


Title: Nightmare on Helm Street Author: Waddles 52 Summary: An evening of Halloween fun doesn't go as planned. Rating: PG13 Category: MT Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Just for fun. Not for profit. Archives: Two weeks exclusively for the VS11 Halloween Special, after that please ask. Feedback: Sure. Waddles52@insightbb.com Thanks: To Satchie for her skillful beta and encouragement.  
  
"Well, we managed to get another expense report in under the wire," Dana Scully announced as she breezed into the basement office she shared with her partner.  
  
Fox Mulder looked up and continued to read the pamphlet in his hands.  
  
Leaning over his back, she read aloud, "Industrial Nightmare. The mother of all haunted houses. Guaranteed to make your worst fears a reality. Open October 3rd through November 2nd, 7-12 PM. Come if you dare."  
  
Scully couldn't help laughing. "Why are you so interested in this? Is the haunted house actually haunted?"  
  
"Not that I'm aware of. The guys went the other night and said it was awesome."  
  
"Now, that scares me. Are you going to go?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm considering it. What exciting plans do you have for this Halloween evening?"  
  
"Just the usual Halloween stuff. Hand out candy to the three or four kids that knock on my door, then eat the rest of it myself."  
  
"Wanna check out the haunted house with me?"  
  
Scully thought it over for a few seconds. "Why not? Besides, you'll need someone to hold your hand when you get scared."  
  
"Yeah, right. It'll probably be the other way around," Mulder teased.  
  
"Oh yeah? Put your money where your mouth is," she challenged. "The first one who screams buys dinner."  
  
Mulder stood up and looked down at his petite partner. "Bring plenty of money because I'm starving."  
  
"So am I and I want to eat in a nice restaurant. No take-out, so be sure to stop by an ATM on the way home," Scully countered.  
  
Mulder grabbed his suit coat from behind his chair and shrugged into it. "I'm sure I'll be picking out the restaurant, but I need some money for the weekend anyway, so I'll hit an ATM just to make you happy."  
  
"So, what time should I be ready?"  
  
"How about seven o'clock?"  
  
"I'll be ready and waiting," she agreed.  
  
"And I'll be there along with my appetite."  
  
Scully picked up her purse and briefcase and Mulder locked the door. They made their way to the elevator, each anticipating a free meal.  
  
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At 10 o'clock, Mulder pulled into the parking lot of the Helm Street Shop and Go and parked in front of the door. "I'm going to get some aspirin before I buy your dinner, under protest I might add. My ass really hurts."  
  
Scully tried very hard to keep her laughter under control. "Mulder, I'm really sorry the guy with the chain saw jumped in front of you and made you loose your balance, but you did scream."  
  
"No, you're not sorry. You just love it when you win a bet."  
  
"Well, that too," she chuckled.  
  
Out of habit, Mulder surveyed the store before he left the car. It wasn't crowded, just the cashier and a customer dressed like Freddy Krueger. "Looks like he escaped from the haunted house," he thought as he opened the door and gingerly slid out of his seat.  
  
Scully had also observed the shopper in the popular costume. "Do you need me to protect you from big, bad, Freddy?" she teased.  
  
Mulder leaned back in the door. "Nah, I think I can handle a guy in a crappy looking costume with plastic blades on his hand."  
  
"Well, give a shout if you need any help."  
  
Mulder closed the door and limped inside. So far, the evening hadn't gone as planned, and he knew he would hear about it for days to come. To top it all off he felt the beginnings of a headache behind his eyes. "Happy Halloween," he muttered under his breath.  
  
He found the aspirin quickly and took his place in line behind Freddy Krueger, who was purchasing a 12 pack of beer and a carton of cigarettes.  
  
"I'm sorry, mister, but the law says I have to see some ID before I can sell you this stuff," the cashier explained.  
  
"I don't need no ID, 'cause you're gonna give it to me, along with what's in that safe and the cash register."  
  
"Shit, what's with this guy? He doesn't even have a weapon." Mulder was tired and sore so he decided to see how the cashier was going to handle the problem before he stepped in.  
  
The cashier began edging toward the phone. "Mister, why don't you just leave and we'll forget this ever happened. If you don't, I'll have to call the law."  
  
"No cops! Just do what I told you!"  
  
"Okay, this has gone far enough," Mulder interjected. "I'm a federal agent. Now, you can either do what the cashier suggested, or I can hold you at gunpoint and wait for the police to settle this."  
  
"No cops!" the Freddy look alike screamed as he turned to face Mulder.  
  
Mulder automatically reached for his weapon. In that split-second, the costumed man stretched out his arm and raked the blades across Mulder's chest and stomach. A look of surprise, then pain flashed across his face. As he looked down he saw the torn fabric of his shirt, blood quickly turning it crimson. His legs gave way and he landed hard on his already bruised ass, then slumped over to rest on his left side. Mulder's last conscious thoughts were of the haunted house. Why did he wait in line for an hour and pay to have a scary experience when he seemed to encounter enough weirdness on his own?  
  
In the car, Scully had pulled the visor mirror down to check her lipstick. Deciding that she didn't need a touch-up, she flipped the visor up just in time to see the disguised man slash Mulder's chest and abdomen.  
  
"Son of a bitch!" she screamed, as she pushed her way out of the car and drew her weapon in one fluid motion.  
  
The cashier quickly met the robber's demands as Mulder lay bleeding on the floor. In the meantime, Scully positioned herself outside the exit, out of the thief's line of vision.  
  
As the man burst through the door, Scully shouted, "Federal agent! Put your hands on your head!"  
  
The Freddy look alike waggled his bladed fingers and took a step toward her.  
  
"Don't come any closer," she ordered. "I will shoot!"  
  
The robber ignored her and continued to advance, slashing at her. Knowing she had no other choice, Scully fired her weapon and watched as the man dropped to the pavement. Blood began to trickle from the neat hole in his forehead above his right eye.  
  
Scully knelt beside him and extended a shaking hand to his neck. Feeling no pulse, she leapt up and pushed the door open. "Call 911! Get an ambulance here on the double!"  
  
Before the cashier could punch in the numbers, she was beside Mulder, checking his pulse. Although very fast, it was there. She breathed a sigh of relief and began to survey the damage from the blades.  
  
Mulder's ribs had protected his chest to a certain extent, but those three, long slashes would require sutures even though Scully was sure that there wasn't any major damage. The two cuts across his upper abdomen were another matter. They were quite deep and would probably require surgery.  
  
"Help is on the way," the cashier reported, handing her a first-aid kit. "What can I do to help?"  
  
Scully opened the first-aid kit and found a few gauze pads and some antibiotic ointment. "Useless! Get me a package of maxi-pads, super if you have them."  
  
"I'm on it!" he exclaimed, running to the back of the store.  
  
Scully looked around and spied a stand holding free publications. She quickly dumped the newspapers out, and after turning Mulder onto his back, put the stand under his feet to elevate them.  
  
The movement elicited a moan from her partner. His eyelids fluttered, then opened, just as Scully was tearing open the package of maxi-pads that the cashier had just handed her.  
  
"They're absorbent so they make good bandages," she explained, anticipating his question. "I have to put some pressure on those gashes. It might hurt a little."  
  
"Okay," he agreed, then moaned loudly as she pressed them firmly on the wounds.  
  
"Sorry, but I need to slow the bleeding down. You'll do anything to get out of paying up on your bets won't you?" she teased, hoping to keep his mind off the pain.  
  
"No, I'll pay up," he gasped as she applied more pressure to his wounds. "You pick the restaurant. Anywhere you want."  
  
Scully reached for more pads to replace the ones that had soaked through. "I intend to pick a very expensive place, one with plates and silverware instead of wrappers and paper cups."  
  
"Okay, as long as knives aren't required."  
  
"Well, I'll think it over and let you know later." Scully breathed a sigh of relief as the ambulance and police arrived simultaneously.  
  
"Dinner, dancing . . ." Mulder's voice trailed off as his eyes closed, oblivious to the bustle around him as the paramedics moved in and took over.  
  
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Mulder's eyes didn't open again until the next day. He recognized the sounds and smells of a hospital, then remembered how he came to be there. He took stock of his situation as his eyes scanned the room. Several bags of fluid were hanging from the IV pump, and he observed wires running to a heart monitor. He was relieved to find that he wasn't intubated, but was quickly dismayed when he swallowed and felt an NG tube. He guessed there was a Foley lurking under the sheets, along with several other tubes that he wasn't familiar with.  
  
"Yes, partner, you have quite a few tubes and wires this time," Scully supplied when she noticed him looking over the medical equipment.  
  
He turned to his left, happy to see her smiling face. "How bad?" he croaked, wondering why she wasn't giving him ice chips as she usually did when he returned to consciousness. He glanced at the bedside table, hoping to find the plastic pitcher that was usually standard equipment.  
  
"Sorry, Mulder. Your stomach has to get a little better before you can have anything to eat or drink. You had surgery to repair the deepest lacerations, but you should be able to return to your regular, disgusting diet as soon as they've healed."  
  
"You okay?" he asked.  
  
"I'm fine. I had to shoot him when he advanced on me, but he didn't touch me."  
  
Mulder was relieved that she wasn't injured, but he knew that she would agonize over killing the assailant. He reached for her hand and squeezed it gently.  
  
"So, how are you feeling? Are you having much pain?"  
  
"Some," he answered as he tried to find a more comfortable position.  
  
Suddenly, he gasped and froze, his face contorted in pain. "Oh, shit!"  
  
"Mulder, what is it?" Scully asked, springing to her feet in alarm.  
  
"Hurts!" he managed to answer through gritted teeth.  
  
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Later that afternoon, Mulder was back in his room after a series of exams, x-rays and consultations. He was resting on his left side, wondering how he always managed to get hurt without putting any effort into it. He sighed loudly, causing Scully to look up from her magazine. "Welcome back partner. You kind of gave me a scare."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"After you passed out from the pain, the doctor ordered a very thorough examination and various scans. The best we were able to figure, your tumble at the haunted house and your subsequent fall when you were slashed caused a fracture to your tailbone. Since you were unconscious until this morning you were unable to tell us that there was a problem."  
  
Mulder groaned.  
  
"I'm sorry. You'll be pretty miserable until it heals."  
  
"I guess I'll live up to Skinner's pet name for me," he deadpanned. "A real pain in the ass."  
  
"Well, maybe this will help." Scully grinned as she presented him with an inflatable ring.  
  
Mulder snorted in disgust.  
  
"Since you'll be tied to your desk for a while, you'll be able to work rings around everyone else."  
  
Mulder groaned again, more a reaction to the bad pun than physical pain.  
  
"Next year, Mulder, why don't we just stay at home and hand out a few pieces of candy? I can fix some cider, we can make popcorn balls and watch a scary movie."  
  
"You have a deal." He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. "As long as we don't watch 'Nightmare On Elm Street'."  
  
Scully squeezed back and leaned over, pushing back the lock of hair that always seemed to fall across his fore head. "But I haven't forgotten. You still owe me a dinner whenever you can sit comfortably."  
  
Mulder smiled and closed his eyes. Even though he lost the bet, he felt he had come out ahead with the promise of Scully in his life for another year. Sometimes losing was worth it.  
  
End 


End file.
